Damages
by SushiBomb
Summary: It had been eleven years since Fuuta had last seen Fran, and after speaking again face to face, Fuuta fears their friendship is but a thing of the past. Gift-fic #2 of 13. Written for Reidluver. Follows Boulevard Nights headcanon.


A/N: Gift-fic for my babu Reidluver

Characters: TYL!Fran and TYL!Fuuta

Warnings: Themes, content, and slight language. Can be read independently, but it will make more sense if you read Boulevard Nights first.

* * *

><p>Damages<p>

* * *

><p>Tsuna was inconsolable.<p>

Their world, and all worlds parallel to it, were now safe from Byakuran's maniacal tyrade thanks to him, but at the moment, their boss and friend could only crouch next the garments and pacifier that once belonged to Yuni and Gamma, weeping bittersweet tears.

But he wept not only for the young mafia princess and her faithful servant and friend, but for the inherently misguided soul of the late Millefiore boss.

It was a heavy burden for such a compassionate person to bear.

He had killed a man today. With his own two hands.

There was nothing any of them could say to beautify that fact in Tsuna's mind. And maybe, perhaps Xanxus had been correct in saying that Tsuna was still much too soft to succeed the Vongola name.

But soft was who Tsuna was.

He was a forgiving person with a good heart, and he had been brought against his will into this world where the lives of his friends were constantly at stake, and now, as he held Yuni's pink ribbon, the darkest side of the mafia was forever engraining itself in Tsuna's mind.

None of them dared approach him; Gokudera, as well as Ryohei and the others, his best friends, could only stand nearby, watching with sullen frowns as their boss and friend mourned the loss of a friend and ally. Yamamoto had given Tsuna a heartfelt squeeze on the shoulder before disappearing into the brush with Squalo, who insisted on a word with him.

Fuuta himself stood next to Bianchi and the girls, who were all gathered in a silent circle, Haru and Kyoko wrapped up in Bianchi's sisterly embrace as they wept.

But as he briefly glanced over at the Varia camp, where Lussuria was in the process of healing Kikyo's more minor injuries so that he would be stable enough to fly, he realized that today was indeed a bittersweet day for all of them.

Fuuta had recognized him almost instantly.

It wasn't difficult, really, considering that there weren't many people out there who fit into the category of 'snarky illusionist with green hair.'

But, there Fran stood, a grown man just like him, next to the blonde varia member with the large, creepy smile, donning the same black, white, and crème uniform, complete with a large frog hat. They were talking about something casually; Belphegor leaning against a thick tree trunk with his hands in his pockets, and Fran in front of him, with his arms folded across his chest, one hand raised and scratching at his cheek idly.

Probably speculating what Xanxus planned to do with Kikyo, now that Byakuran and the Six Funeral wreaths were defeated, Fuuta realized.

It had been over eleven years since he had last seen the boy.

Fuuta still remembered that fateful night when they had first met; how terrified they had both been, and how somehow, amidst such unfortunate circumstances, Fuuta had made his first friend.

And then, they came to take him away.

Fuuta's face scrunched up pensively. The events of that day were still a blur to him. Over the years, he had tried to piece together what happened, but was always left with a splitting headache. It felt like a chunk of his memory was permanently erased from his mind, and…

And.

The missing link was standing a field's length away.

Fuuta's breathing hitched suddenly as the realization struck him.

Fran, the only person who knew what happened, the very _cause_ of the event, was casually standing several yards away.

And before he even realized it, Fuuta's feet were moving towards him, quickly closing the distance. As the two Varia members came into view, Fuuta's heart began to beat wildly.

Would Fran remember him? Or would the tempermental blonde next to him, the one who wielded all of those knives…would he interfere?

Before Fuuta's mind even had a chance to process and torture itself with potential answers, he was standing not ten feet away from them. They still had not noticed him; he was still not close enough to hear their conversation, but Belphegor was laughing idly, laughing which immediately ceased and morphed into an incensed snarl as Fran nonchalantly replied, voice as deadpanned and sarcastic as Fuuta remembered.

Belphegor's anger suddenly faded as he finally noticed Fuuta just over Fran's shoulder, clutching at his elbow awkwardly.

"Can we help you?" Bel asked casually, his infamous smile returning in earnest.

"…Um…"

At that moment, Fran turned to see who Belphegor was talking to. His eyes suddenly widened.

"Fuuta?" He said quietly. Despite himself, a small smile appeared over Fuuta's face. He waved awkwardly.

Belphegor's hidden eyes bounced back and forth between the two staring at each other so intently. It was quite an unexpected reaction, really. The boy, Fuuta, if he remembered correctly, was staring at Fran with a sort of melancholy smile, looking almost as if he would cry any second.

Fran, on the other hand, looked almost…afraid?

It didn't read on his face, which had miraculously maintained its usual deadpanned blankness, but Bel could see it in his eyes and body language. He saw it in the way Fran's pupils contracted so sharply, the way his breathing seemed to pick up a bit, and the way he seemed frozen in place, like a deer in the headlights.

Whatever reason the boy had approached them, Fran seemed to know exactly what it was about.

And on the drop of a dime, Fran was moving towards Fuuta, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him away.

"Oi, Toad," Bel began brusquely, "where the hell are you going? We're leaving as soon as Squalo gets back from talking with the Vongola kid, you know."

But Fran ignored him completely, which earned him some very creative, semi-empty threats on Belphegor's part, so focused was he on pulling Fuuta into a smaller clearing in the forest.

Once they were alone, Fran finally released Fuuta's wrist, and sat on a large boulder, as far away from Fuuta as he could possibly get. Fuuta was saddened by the fact that Fran seemed to refuse to look him in the eye.

The two sat in tense silence for several minutes before Fuuta finally cracked and spoke first.

"So, you're in the Varia now, huh?"

Fran nodded offhandedly. "Looks like it."

"Are you happy?"

"Do I look happy to you?"

"Heh…no I guess not. Are they that bad?"

"No, they really aren't. But that's why. I am, in fact, a bit unimpressed with them. They're not anything special. Just really obnoxious and arrogant, that's all."

"You seem to be pretty chummy with that blonde guy." Fran raised a thin eyebrow skeptically.

"Oh, you mean Bel-sempai? If by 'chummy,' you mean he clearly hates my guts and stabs me at any and every given opportunity, then yes, I suppose you could say that."

Fuuta chuckled glumly. "Boy, Fran, you haven't changed a bit."

Despite himself, a small smile, a real one, appeared on the older boy's blank face. "Neither have you, Fuuta."

At that, Fuuta sighed. "I…I didn't think you'd remember me, to be honest." He said despondently as he leaned against a tree a few feet away.

Fran glanced up at him, equally melancholic, a smile so brief anyone other than those who knew him, like Fuuta, would mistake it for some sort of facial twitch appearing before he spoke.

"How could I forget you? You did save my life, after all. So if you please, drop the pleasantries, because I know what you're thinking."

Fuuta gave him an odd look. "What?"

The illusionist sighed in mild irritation as he scratched at his cheek again. "I said come off it, Fuuta. I can see right through that awkward pleasantness. It's written all over your face. After everything that happened when we were small, there is no way in hell you walked all the way across the field just to say 'hi.'"

Fuuta suddenly moved away from the tree and came to stand directly in front of Fran, forcing the illusionist to look up at him. Fuuta opened and closed his mouth several times, the words on the tip of his tongue but the nerve to say them nevering quite reaching its peak.

"There is so much that I want to say to you…I don't even know where to start." Fuuta said with a bitter smile as he look down at Fran.

Fran stared back up at him, face completely unreadable. "Then I guess you should start with the obvious."

Fuuta's eyes widened at the underlying chill in Fran's voice. He felt himself hesitate as his brown eyes locked with Fran's own green ones.

"Go on," Fran began, voice emotionless and mechanical, "just get it out of the way. And then we can really talk."

Fuuta swallowed the lump that was quickly forming in his throat, his breathing becoming erratic with his sudden eruption of anger and hurt as he struck Fran across the face with enough force to knock Fran to the ground.

He jumped on Fran's chest, grabbing the taller man by the collar as he angrily punched him again and again.

Once. Twice. Three times.

The tears were flowing freely now, as freely as the thin trickle of blood from the corner of Fran's mouth. The illusionist licked his bottom lip, running his tongue over the thin split that was seeping blood as he wiped away the blood at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

"Feel better now?" He panted before turning away and spitting out a small glob of blood on the ground.

Fuuta nodded before pulling Fran into a shaky embrace. "How could you, Fran?" He asked, sobbing silently into Fran's shoulder. Fran awkwardly wrapped his arms around Fuuta and leaned his head on the younger man's shoulder.

"Fuuta…you know I didn't have a choice. It was the only way I could protect you."

"But my mom…and my dad….how could you just…"

Fran sighed. "Fuuta, they were already... there was nothing I could do for them. I just had to focus on getting away. You know they would've taken me back to Osservanza if they found me… it was a matter of life and death for me then, Fuuta."

Fuuta released Fran and sat back, his face puffy with tears, his eyes already bloodshot.

"It was much easier then, to separate myself from it, because I was so sure that I would never see you again. I left a trail for them to follow so that they wouldn't find you in the house, but a big part of me was still scared to leave you alone, Fuuta. I was so scared for you. I didn't know what would happen to you, or if you would even survive on your own. And I always wondered, from time to time, what happened when you finally woke up."

"…Fran…"

Fran looked up from his knees to stare at him. "But I guess I should've known we'd eventually cross paths again, since you were involved with the mafia already, just like I was."

"Fran, I just want to know what happened."

"You know what happened, Fuuta. You woke up right in the middle of the aftermath, didn't you?"

Fuuta winced at the coldness in Fran's voice. He was right.

Fuuta did wake up in the middle of it.

Surrounded by the bodies of the orderlies that murdered his parents.

It was sweet, in the most gruesome of ways. Fran had tucked him in bed before disappearing forever, leaving nothing behind but a mess of empty pudding cups on the kitchen table, an illusionist torture device in the bathroom, and a note folded up on Fuuta's nightstand that said he never meant for any of this to happen with a sea of mangled corpses littered around his house.

"Oi! Fran! Hurry it up wouldya? We're leaving!" They heard Belphegor yell from the outskirts of the clearing. Fran sighed and stood up, brushing himself off.

"Look," he began, voice perfectly unreadable, "I know that you must hate me after all this time, and you have every right to. If it wasn't for me, your parents might still be alive. But…I was just a kid then. I didn't know what else to do. Leaving you behind was the only way I could ensure that I survived. And it hurt to do that. It hurt so much. You were my first friend, Fuuta. And not just that. You were my _only_ friend. Ever."

A new stream of tears ran down Fuuta's face. Fran honestly thought…

"Fran, wait, please-"

"FROGGY! MOVE YOUR ASS!" They heard Bel shout again.

Fran smiled bitterly as he began walking towards the clearing. "But Fuuta, for what it's worth, I want you to know that I never got over it. I was sorry for it every single day of my life. And if it wasn't for the drugs, I probably would've killed myself just to get rid of the constant picture of your face in my head."

Fuuta's breath hitched. "Fran…"

"I have to go. You really don't want to see Bel-sempai when he's in a pissy mood. It's not very pleasant. Take care."

And with that, Fran vacated the clearing, leaving Fuuta standing alone and trembling, with only his memories and the bitterness of Fran's apology to keep him company.

* * *

><p>Belphegor growled as Squalo yelled at him, for the seventh time, to go get Fran. Just as he was about to storm into the clearing where Fran and the boy had disappeared and drag Fran out by his hair, the illusionist in question appeared, his lip busted and blood smeared on his face and uniform sleeve.<p>

Belphegor whistled in shock. "Froggy, ushishi~! What the fuck happened to you?"

Fran shook his head as he walked by. "Don't worry about it. It's none of your business." He said curtly. At that, Belphegor laughed. The prince planted himself in front of the shorter man, walking backwards.

"None of my business? That kid fucked you up pretty good Froggy, why wouldn't that be the prince's bus-"

"**Drop it.**" Fran snapped suddenly before shoving his way past Belphegor, causing the prince to nearly lose his balance and fall. "Hey!" Bel snarled at the illusionist's retreating back, but was ignored. Belphegor thought of stabbing him for his rudeness, but decided against it when Fran swatted Lussuria's hand away when the sun guardian offered to heal him.

Not that he was trying to be considerate or anything, but he thought for a moment that, perhaps, their little mist guardian was genuinely upset about something for once. And it was a side of him that was quite fascinating to Bel, now that he knew it really existed.

And when they arrived back at the Varia castle later that night, his curiosity grew even more when Fran immediately went off in the direction of his room, looking strangely desperate.

"Fran, honey, don't you want any dinner?" Lussuria asked him. Fran shook his head.

"I just need to be alone for a while. I'm not feeling very well."He said with a melancholy smile before disappearing up the stairs. Belphegor noticed the oddly knowing sigh Lussuria released before quickly regaining his usual cheer and flouncing off to the kitchen to prepart a steak for Xanxus.

That, to Belphegor, was even more curious, because Lussuria was usually much more insistent than that when it came to Fran's diet.

* * *

><p>"Fuuta?" Bianchi knocked on his bedroom door that night, long after Tsuna and the others of the past returned to their rightful time.<p>

She knew something was definitely wrong.

Fuuta had been strangely aloof the entire day, except for when they all said their goodbyes, as if something was occupying his mind. And, although he insisted he was alright, Bianchi noticed that after Fuuta returned from the wherever he had disappeared to right after the fight with Byakuran, his face was a bit reddened, and his eyes, puffy and bloodshot.

Had Fuuta been crying?

"Come in." Came the hollow response from the other side of the door.

Bianchi turned the knob and pushed open the door. Fuuta was laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes were still slightly bloodshot from before.

Bianchi stared at him curiously for a moment before taking a seat at the edge of his bed.

"Fuuta…did something happen to you?"

Fuuta looked up at his surrogate sister oddly. "What do you mean, Bianchi-nee?"

Bianchi sighed as she pulled Fuuta up against her into a hug. "Fuuta, please. I know when something is bothering you. You've been brooding since we got back. I saw you go off with that green-haired boy from the Varia. Did he do something to you?"

She felt Fuuta stiffen in her arms. He looked up at her, eyes watering. "Fuuta?"

"…Bianchi-nee…" He began, his voice wavering, "It's not what he did to me…it's more like, what I did to him…"

Bianchi was taken aback by the odd statement, but nonetheless, she held Fuuta closer to her. Fuuta wrapped his hands around the pale arm that held his chest, leaning his head in the crook of Bianchi's arm.

"He…he really thinks I hate him."

Bianchi began running her fingers through his hair soothingly, listening as Fuuta took several deep breaths. "Do you hate him, Fuuta?" She asked quietly into his hair.

Fuuta trembled, his composure finally cracking.

"How could I ever hate him, Bianchi-nee? He was my first real friend." Fuuta said, sobbing into his hands.

"None of it was his fault, even though… I-I always blamed him for everything…that happened…but-" He sobbed harder, "How could I be so selfish? I just got so angry and I hit him… But he was just trying to protect me the whole time. But, but didn't he ever think that maybe I was scared too? I always thought that maybe they finally found him. I thought about it all of the time. I didn't think he was even alive."

"…Fuuta…" Bianchi said sorrowfully as he cried against her.

"I just want to see him again, Bianchi-nee. He's been through so much since then, I could see it in his eyes. I just want to tell him that everything's okay, and that I still want to be his friend. I could never, ever hate Fran. He's too good a person for that."

Bianchi just murmured soothing words into Fuuta's hair as the boy cried harder. The two sat in silence for a long time, until Fuuta's sobs died down to small gasps and sniffles.

After a while, Fuuta finally looked up at his surrogate sister. "Bianchi?" He whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Hmm?" She responded quietly. Fuuta heaved a great sigh, the exhaustion if the day's events finally washing over him. Bianchi leaned over a turned off the light before settling back. It would take Fuuta a long time to fall asleep tonight.

"He's in the Varia now."She heard him whisper.

"I know Fuuta, I saw him earlier."

"That's not what I meant. The Varia, they…they're our allies, but…they're not _good_ people, Bianchi-nee. They aren't like Tsuna-nii, or Takeshi-nii, or Hayato-nii. They really like hurting people…and…"

"And?"

"And… I'm so scared… for Fran. That maybe, if he's with them…that…he'll change. You should've heard him today, Bianchi. It was like talking to the Fran I knew from the underneath a layer of ice."

"…Fuuta…"

"I don't know if we could ever be friends again, Bianchi-nee. He's surrounded by negativity now…and he's put up so many walls…but…"

"Hmm?"

"He really doesn't deserve any of it. He shouldn't be there. He should be here, with me."

"I think we'll make a call to the Varia headquarters in the morning. I bet that he probably wants to talk to you as much as you want to talk to him."

"…I hope you're right, Bianchi-nee."

_But I really don't think so. The damage has already been done._

* * *

><p><em>I hope you liked it Reid! I know it was a total angst-fest, but yeah. This is pretty much what would happen if they saw each other when they're older.<em>

_I love you and Merry Christmas!_


End file.
